Got Hit, Couldn't Shake It
by Skylark016
Summary: It started with the call. It ended in the hospital. "Has anyone got a visual on the Cap?" Static. Empty air. His heart beat pounded in his ears. "Steve?" "Steve!" (hurt!Steve, features all Avengers)
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters/settings

Author's Note: So I know that I should really be focusing on getting my previously posted work back on here, but I figured that the stories on my computer that are already finished weren't going anywhere anytime soon, so I might as well start this one while the idea was still fresh in my mind. This story takes place sometime between CA:TWS and AoU. So, hope you enjoy!

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The call came in at 2:34 am.

Normally the time wouldn't matter.

Normally the little details would fall through the cracks.

But this time it wasn't normal.

This time it did matter.

It's incredible really, all of the little details that make up one's day and yet you don't really take them all in until something bad happens. Something really bad.

It started with the call.

It ended in the hospital.

"Has anyone got a visual on the Cap?"

Static. Empty air. His heart beat pounded in his ears.

"Steve?"

"Steve!"

But let's back up and start from the beginning.

 **1:30 am**

It was a morning like any other.

Nat and Clint were in their rooms, sleeping, or at least attempting to get some shut eye.

Thor was on the roof, star-gazing.

Banner was knocked out in front of the tv on the couch, a bucket of popcorn balancing precariously in his lap as the light flickered over his lax features.

Stark was holed up in one of his labs, in the process of remodeling one of his suites into yet a better make and model that he'd been working on for quite some time now.

And Steve, Steve was in the basement.

He sent a right hook into the bag, quickly followed by a kick.

Punch, punch, kick, jab with elbow, punch.

A cycle. Over and over.

Sweat dripping slowly down his brow. His muscles starting to shake with exertion.

Eventually he stopped, placing a hand on the bag to steady it and wiping his forehead with his other hand.

He grabbed his water bottle and decided to make his rounds through the Tower.

He didn't do this every night, but most nights. It helped calm him down and ground him before he went to bed.

He started at the top, joining Thor on the roof and listening to a couple of the warrior's grand stories as he sipped water. He liked Thor, enjoyed the Asgardian's strange sense of humor and always felt a tad bit better when he wasn't the only person who didn't completely understand this century.

He walked back down the stairs and placed his now empty water bottle in the kitchen before walking into the living room and shutting the television off. He smiled at the sight of Banner draped across the cushions and decided to leave the popcorn, not wanting to wake him on accident. He respected Banner, the man was usually fairly quiet but he was incredibly smart and gentle. He was usually Steve's go-to guy whenever he needed help with technology and wasn't in the mood to deal with Stark.

Next he peered quietly into Nat's and Barton's rooms, a quick glance to judge if they were sleeping or if they needed company. Tonight both were deep asleep. The two SHIELD assassins had pretty much kept to themselves at first, but once they had opened up to the team they had become the final pieces to their obscure little family.

Last but not least Steve wandered down into Tony's labs. Tony...Steve shook his head. The man got on his nerves, and yet they had a strange friendship in spite of that. Or perhaps, because of that. Each of them had opposing strengths that somehow evened out in the long run.

Not to mention that Steve and Tony were the team's notorious insomniacs. As a result, most of their actual talking usually occurred within the late night, or early morning hours.

The bright lights were almost blinding compared to the dark upstairs, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

Tony barely glanced up from whatever he was tinkering with on his desk when he heard the door open.

"Finish the rounds?" his tone was light, as if having to ground yourself into a time period each night was something everyone had to do. He couldn't find it within himself to tease the super-soldier after the man had explained to him the story behind his strange routine.

Steve shrugged, "Everyone's okay upstairs. How are you?"

Tony shrugged, "Fine."

"The shoulder better?"

Tony stretched his arm in a big circular motion, "Good as new."

Steve nodded, that was good news. During their last mission a couple of weeks ago, Tony had dislocated his shoulder and torn some muscle in his back along with it. It had been a long recovery and he'd only recently gotten cleared. For someone who was as active as Tony, sitting out on the sidelines for two weeks had been a real challenge.

"Been on any SHIELD missions recently?" Tony asked, keeping the conversation flowing as he scooted his chair over and started clicking away on his computer.

Steve shook his head, "No, been pretty quiet actually."'

"Anything on your uh…" Tony waved his hand, "Friend?"

"Bucky," Steve reminded him, he sighed "And no, pretty quiet there to."

"Well, he's bound to show up somewhere. Who knows, maybe he'll drag the Loch Ness out of the river next. Or you know, kill someone, or.."

Steve shot Tony a glare that clearly stated his teasing wasn't appreciated. Tony tended to get that look a lot from Steve.

 **2:00 am**

By two Thor had retreated to his room. Nat, Barton, and Banner were still where they had been previously. Tony was talking to Pepper on the phone on the balcony. Steve was in his room, drawing in his sketchbook.

Everything was quiet.

Everyone waiting for the sun to come up and the day to officially begin.

Steve was just going over his drawing, the flower vase on his nightstand that someone had given to him as a gift, one last time. Carefully darkening the shadows and adding extra details.

Then the call came in.

"Captain Rogers, Mister Fury is on the line."

Steve's head shot up, knowing that there was only one reason for Fury to call at that hour, "Wake the Avengers."

 **3:00 am**

"We have another mad scientist Cap? Or is it Hydra? Oh, what about-" Tony asked as he piloted the quinjet over the dark New York skyline.

"It's a gang under the name of the Revolutionaries." Steve informed the team, some of which still seemed half-asleep.

"What's their angle?" Natasha asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

"Start a revolution."

"How original," Clint muttered, checking the tips of his arrows.

"They don't approve of America not putting the Avengers in prison, so they plan on taking us out themselves."

"So we're flying right to them?"

" _So_ they're destroying as many towns as they can in order to get to us." Tony supplied, before explaining, "What? I read the headlines."

"Where is our destination?" Thor questioned.

"Smallville, Nebraska."

 **3:45 AM**

They lost an hour somewhere along the way to the small town. The sun still had yet to come out, the stars twinkling above. It would have been a beautiful scene overlooking the city had the far side of it not been on fire.

"Cap," Tony called.

Steve joined him at the head of the plane and cursed softly under his breath, "Okay," He hooked his cowl on and Tony watched as Steve transformed into Captain America.

It had taken a long time for him to actually distinguish between the two, and looking back he wondered how Steve Rogers could ever be considered the same person as Captain America.

Steve Rogers was strong yes, and noble. A natural leader who knew how to play to people's strengths. Captain America was all those things, but he made the tough calls. Captain America took a hit and moved on, Steve Rogers needed time to heal.

He could remember the first time Steve had gotten hurt, _really_ hurt from a mission-

 _"_ _Shit Spangles," Tony gasped as he flipped his helmet open._

 _Steve laid on the ground, sickeningly pale and surrounded by a pool of red. Tony's gut lurched as he took in all the blood and tried to calculate just how much blood loss would be too much for the super soldier._

 _Steve just groaned and rested his head on the ground._

 _"_ _Okay, uh, Thor we're gonna need some evac here, and tell Banner to get his medical supplies ready in the jet, uh..." Tony searched frantically for some form of first aid kit. They were in the freakin' downtown, there had to be something somewhere, right? His eyes landed on a jagged piece of debris that had dried blood on it and eyed the hole in Steve's gut, "Dude did you yank that thing out?" he asked incredulously._

 _Steve shrugged and coughed, uncharacteristically out of it. His body started shaking despite the weather being in the high seventies.  
_

 _"_ _You're supposed to leave it in and let the professionals dig it out you, moron," he scolded, slipping his arms out of the suit's arms and squirming his way out of his t-shirt, he opened the suite entirely and yanked his shirt off over his head. He balled the fabric up and pressed it against the wound,"Okay Spangles, you're gonna be alright. You hear me? Thor's on his way and Banner'll fix you right up -  
_

"We're going to have to split up," Steve decided as Tony gently placed the quinjet on the ground, a safe distance from the town.

"Can I be the first to say that that's a horrible idea? Divide and conquer, remember?" Tony interjected, shaking his head to rid himself of that awful memory.

Steve sighed, clearly stating that he agreed, but that they didn't have much choice in the matter.

"Those Revolutionaries won't stop until they burn the town down to the ground. Tony, Nat, and Thor, you guys'll be in charge of heading them off and stopping them. We don't know how many of them there are or whether or not they're armed, so be careful. Barton, you and I will be in charge of fire and rescue, try and lead the civilians out of the city if you can. Banner, be ready for the call, we might need some medical help." Steve glanced at everyone, trying to find something encouraging to say.

Luckily Tony opened the back of the plane, and fired up his thrusters, one step ahead of everyone else as usual, "Let's do this!"

 **4:00AM**

The fight with the so-called Revolutionaries was nothing spectacular. Tony and Thor easily held them off, which enabled Natasha to go help with the evacuation. Even when they had managed to rope the gang up fires were still raging throughout the city and had started to spread to the more populated areas.

"Okay Cap, we're all good to go here," Tony stated into his intercom.

The comm was uncharacteristically quiet. He shared a glance with Thor, knowing that the silence could mean anything. He had to remind himself that jumping to conclusions wouldn't help anybody.

"Hey Capsicle, we got the yahoos rounded up," he said, hoping that the annoying nickname would spur Steve to respond.

There was another gap of unnerving silence to his announcement.

'I swear if he freakin' knocked out his intercom again,' Tony thought rolling his eyes.

One of the Revolutionaries started laughing hysterically as they continued to wait for a response.

Thor moved quicker than Tony could. The man was being held in the air by his collar before he knew the Asgardian had even moved.

"What have you done?" Thor growled.

Tony's heartbeat started to quicken as the man just smiled.

"Has anyone got a visual on Cap?" Tony asked.

The silence seemed deafening.

He lurched into the night sky and zoomed over the city, yes Steve was sometimes a righteous pain in his ass, but he was _Steve,_ how the heck could they be the Avengers without their leader? Without their friend?

"Steve?" he yelled, he could see Nat leading a rather large group of people out of the city.

Barton had stopped helping with the evac and was searching on the ground for their missing Captain, aiming for the last location he'd seen Steve.

Tony watched in slow motion as Barton tried to run into a burning apartment building. With a crack like the earth was opening up, the building's roof caved in, one by one each floor came crashing down onto the next. Barton was thrown backwards as the building collapsed entirely, but not before Tony caught sight of a speck of a red, white, and blue uniform inside.

His heart beat thundered in his ears.

"Steve!"

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*So, any good? Worth continuing? Sorry if it's a bit choppy, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless and please review if you have the time! Thanks for reading! :)*


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters/settings

Author's Note: Thank you so, so much for such a fabulous response to the first chapter! You guys are truly amazing. Here is the next chapter, hope you all enjoy!

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Steve had known that the building was unstable the moment he saw it. In their line of work, buildings falling down, or nearly collapsing, tended to happen more often than he'd like to admit and he'd learned a thing or two about how to tell how structurally sound a building really was from the outside.

Plus, the flames reaching out from the top windows was not an encouraging sign. Neither was the smoke that was billowing out as if the building was one huge chimney.

That was why he'd given Barton the office building to evacuate first, he didn't want to put the archer in any unnecessary danger. And when Natasha wasn't needed to round the gang up he had her start on the next block for the same reason.

He ran into the building for the third, and hopefully final, time. His arms were sore from directing families outside to safety, his face and uniform smudged with dirt and ash. He dodged people as they frantically scurried past him.

The smoke was growing thicker by the second, making his eyes sting and water.

He saw a man hurrying down the stairs stumble and fall. He quickly rushed over and helped him up, grabbing the man's shoulder to make sure that he was steady.

"Is there anyone else on the top floors?" he demanded, he'd been trying to work his way down and knew he had nearly gotten everyone, but he needed to know for sure.

The man nodded, "I thought heard some noise, coming from somewhere above me, but... could've been just the fire though, right?"

Steve hesitated, when had things ever gone the optimistic way on a mission? He wondered. Knowing he would have to check it out to make sure.

"Right," he muttered, more to himself than the man, "Get out of here, grab anyone you can along the way." He let go of his shoulder.

The man nodded and hurried off. Steve started sprinting in the opposite direction up the stairs, a sinking feeling settling in his gut.

The heat grew more intense on the upper levels, making Steve sincerely wish that the man was right, what he had heard was just the fire. If it wasn't, than if the flames hadn't gotten whoever it was, the smoke surely would soon. He could feel sweat start to dribble down his back as he opened the stairway door to reveal the soot covered hallway.

He started banging on every door, bursting it open and checking each and every apartment and closing the doors after seeing that they were empty. Hoping that such measures would help to slow the fire down and possibly buy him a few extra minutes.

He was about to give up when he heard a shout from the very end of the hallway.

"Help! Someone! Help me!"

Steve took off immediately, dodging as a chunk of burning ceiling fell and raising his shield to protect himself from stray flames. He kicked down the door that the cries were coming from, knocking it off of its hinges in his haste to get to whoever was trapped inside.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of two men. One held the girl who'd cried out, with a gun to her head, the other held a can of gasoline. Both wore knowing smirks.

The girl struggled against the man's holds, tears streaming down her face as she coughed from the smoke. She looked up at Steve hopefully, he could see the open trust in her gaze, the sheer belief that he would save her.

He knew that he couldn't let her down.

"Let her go," Steve told them, his mind frantically trying to come up with a plan, with some way to get the girl out of danger, knock the men out, and then rush the girl downstairs before the building went down on all of them.

"I can't believe that Captain America," he spat out the name like it tasted sour, "of all people, fell for the most cliché plan ever. Although they did warn me that you'd be a bit naïve," the man with the gasoline can stated with a small chuckle, "Honestly, a child stuck in a burning building? A seemingly hopeless cause? You simply couldn't help yourself could you? Is that what you see when you look at America? Huh? Is that why you tear down our cities?"

Clearly the man had lost it, Steve thought. He was about to point out that out of the two of them the Avengers weren't the ones lighting cities on fire, and the only time New York could ever have been considered 'torn down' was when an army from outer space decided to come and attack it. But he didn't have the time and, frankly, he doubted that the man would listen to reason and a little thing called logic anyways.

"Let her go," he repeated. He could practically hear the timer ticking away until the building gave out in his mind. He was down to minutes now.

It was time to act.

He threw his shield a second too late.

He knew it as soon as the familiar metal rolled off of his extended arm.

He watched in horror as the girl's eyes widened, the man pulled the trigger, her body crumpling in slow motion as his shield crashed into the man's chest, throwing him backwards into a wall.

He could hear Tony saying something into the comm, but the words were garbled and drowned out by the crackling of the nearby flames and the laughter of the man with the gasoline can.

All Steve could see was the girl falling in front of him.

The image of Bucky rose up in his mind's eye against his will. Bucky falling, falling, falling, just barely out of reach. Steve saw the trust Bucky had as he reached out. He'd reached their fingertips just barely grazing before Bucky had slipped, just out of grasp. He could see the stark terror in Bucky's eyes before his body was a mere dot in the distance was the train sped forward.

He'd failed.

Steve looked up just in time to see the man with the gun get to his feet and take aim.

'Must have some sort of body armor,' he concluded as he dived to the side, just barely dodging the bullet. The man was clearly an excellent marksman. Steve jumped up from the ground and threw himself at the man with the gasoline, somehow in their struggling he managed to knock the can liquid out of the man's hands and causing it to spill on the floor.

The man cursed and started attacking him like a wild animal. He knocked him out with a solid blow to the jaw and stumbled as the building shook.

The flames were now creeping into the room, crawling along the walls.

The building was trembling and groaning.

Time was running out.

Steve knew he needed to get out, that his first priority should be escape, the men would be taken care of by the building.

The thought had just crossed his mind when he was tackled from behind. He fell into the puddle, getting gasoline all over his chest and palms.

'Not good, not good, not good,' he thought, starting to panic. He jerked his elbow back and managed to get the guy off of him.

"Steve?!"

People were calling for him. He could hear them, hear the panic in Tony's voice, he needed to get out _now_.

He lunged for his shield, momentarily forgetting the man with the gun. He was soaked in gasoline in a burning building that was about to collapse and his friends needed him, and-

The bullet hit him in the chest and threw him backwards into the wall.

He gasped at the sensation and instinctively raised his shield as another bullet as shot his way, this time harmlessly pinging off of the vibranium. He angled his shield slightly, adjusting his grip as the man shot once again. This time the bullet ricocheted off and managed to take out his attacker.

Steve tried to catch his breath now that the immediate threat was taken care off and glanced down at his chest. His uniform was a shade darker than usual due to the gasoline, and a brownish stain was slowly spreading across his upper torso.

His knees quivered beneath his weight, the smoke in the room making him feel light headed and dizzy.

His breaths came in short sudden gasps.

The flames were getting closer.

He eyed the windows, wondering if they'd be a safer route to escape from. He decided against it. He was at least five stories high, even though he had the serum to help him that was a pretty decent drop without all of his current injuries added in.

He pushed himself off the wall and forced his legs to propel himself towards the door.

Too close, he got too close to the heat.

The moment the flames came in contact with his uniform the effect was instantaneous. Flames spread across his chest, burning away his uniform and searing his tender skin beneath it. The pain was like nothing Steve had ever felt before, it was blinding and heart stopping. He was on fire and he didn't know what to do.

He cried out and jerked backwards, swatting at the fire with his hands only to realize his mistake a second too late.

His eyes were seared with the image of his palms slowly being turned red then-

The building shuddered, making Steve loose what little balance he had and topple over. He rolled on the ground, trying to put out the flames, holding his arms up as pieces of the ceiling were fell on him like chunks of hail, burning hot and hard enough to bruise.

With another shudder the whole ceiling seemed to cave in as if the fire had become a black hole that was slowly sucking everything inside it.

His vision was coming in and out and there were black dots everywhere that made focusing on any one object nearly impossible. He tried pushing himself up but his arms felt like noodles. They shook beneath him and wouldn't hold his weight.

Steve glanced around, trying to find something to use to help pull himself up and off the floor. the smoke was thick and black in the room, and before Steve knew it he was coughing.

Hacking and choking on the thick air. He couldn't _breathe._ Tears streamed down his face from the effort and he curled in on himself in a fetal position. The pain in his chest was fading and the warning bells in Steve's head were ringing like crazy. He'd suffered through enough wounds and seen enough wounded soldiers to know that not feeling pain meant that the wound was a lot more serious than it looked.

Pain was good, pain meant everything as functioning and his body was trying to heal itself. No pain...no pain meant that something was most definitely wrong and Steve was willing to bet the that the bullet hadn't just gone through his chest, it had probably hit something vital. Needless to say the thought was not comforting.

The windows burst into a thousand tiny fragments from the pressure within, raining down everywhere and stinging were they touched his skin.

The revelation that he might not make it out of this hit him like a punch in the gut.

He choked in another breath and couldn't help but see the irony of the situation. First it was water and ice, now he'd be taken out by fire. With a loud thunderous roar what was left of the ceiling seemed to come crashing down in one big piece.

The last thing Steve saw was the girl's lifeless eyes staring back at him before the gigantic mass fell on him, pinning him down as the very floor beneath him gave way.

There was the strange sensation of falling and Steve recalled the fall from the helicarrier. His useless limbs reaching upwards as his body fell, and fell, and fell.

"Steve!"

His head smack against something solid and his world disappeared into darkness.

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*Hopefully this chapter made sense to you guys. I got pretty excited and emotional while writing it and I know that sometimes when that happens details can get overlooked. **Quick question: Do you guys prefer this formatting for a chapter, or the format I used in chapter 1? I'm fine with either, and it won't really change the story line, so please, please, please let me know!**

Hope you enjoyed, and please review if you have time! Thank you so much for reading! :)*


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters/ settings

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for such a wonderful response so far to this story. I never would have dreamed that it would become so popular so soon, so thank you very, very much. Just a quick heads up - I do not have (nor will I ever, most likely) a medical degree. All treatments and anything medical related whatsoever are purely fantasy and nothing more, so if I screw something up I apologize beforehand. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Tony threw another piece of rubble over his shoulder. The ruins of the building were still smoking slightly, but it looked like the fire had been mostly put out when it collapsed.

"Steve!" he yelled, he could hear the others yelling for the super soldier too. His eyes were stinging and he knew he was on the verge of panicking.

He couldn't help but think about how this might have been different if he'd only argued with Steve more. Perhaps Steve would have agreed that the team needed to stick together, or at least work in actual pairs. What if he had started helping the evacuation as soon as they'd trapped the Revolutionaries? Could he have stopped Steve from entering the building?

"Jarvis scan the area," he ordered as he continued to sift through the bricks and chunks of the old apartment building in the general area he'd thought he'd seen Steve, pushing the disturbing thoughts and the fears of what he might find underneath all of it as far from his mind as possible.

"About ten feet to your left, sir," the AI said after a few moments.

Tony jumped to the location, "Guys! Over here!" he called as he continued searching anxiously, "Come on, come on, come on," he muttered, knowing that he had to be close and that each second counted if Steve was gravel injured. Which was fairly probably considering the fact that a whole building fell on him.

'If he makes- No, _once_ Steve makes it out of this I'm going to give him a talking to about the difference between being a hero and being an imbecile,' Tony thought grimly.

With Thor's help they managed to sift through the rubble twice as fast. They peeled away piece after piece, never slowing down. The thought that he should be tired never once crossing Tony's mind because somewhere beneath them was Steve, and Steve needed their help.

With a grunt Thor ripped off a particularly large piece reveling a leg clad in blue. They started picking and tossing the pieces away even faster.

"Steve!"

"Steve can you hear me?"

They uncovered their Captain entirely and everyone froze.

"Oh God," Natasha murmured, leaning into Clint who's face had paled.

Tony gulped.

To say that Steve looked like crap would be an understatement. His body was littered with various bumps and bruises and the top half of his suit had been scorched away. Leaving his charred and inflamed red skin unprotected. He was covered in blisters and blood was leaking out from what looked like a bullet wound.

"Jarvis?"

"Captain Rogers is alive; I suggest he receive medical attention immediately, sir."

Tony nodded and crouched down beside Steve, he gently removed Steve's cowl and threw it to the side.

"Steve? Hey Steve, come on, wake up Sleeping Beauty, we've gotta get you to the doctor." He moved to start picking Steve up when -

"Keep him still," Tony looked up at the sound of Bruce's voice and stopped immediately, knowing that Bruce was probably the only one who really knew what to do by this point.

Bruce's face looked grim as he clambered over to where they were huddled and rolled up his sleeves. He had the team's portable first aid kit slung over his shoulder, having heard the conversation over the comm and seen the collapsing building from the quinjet. He had run outside at a sprint, fearing the worst after calling for help.

"We don't know what internal damage there might be," he explained as he crouched down next to Tony, "SHIELD's on its way with an evac group."

Bruce pressed two fingers to Steve's neck and glanced at his watch, measuring the pulse.

At Tony's questioning glance he shook his head, "The pulse is irregular, but it's there." He searched through the bag and pulled out some gauze. He wadded some up and pressed it against the bullet wound.

A keening sound escaped Steve's lips and his back arched off of the ground as soon as the cloth came in contact with his skin.

Bruce looked sharply at Tony, "Hold. Him. Down. He might hurt himself even more."

Tony reached to put his hands on Steve's shoulders before noticing how red and pink that area was.

"Tony!" Bruce called when Steve continued to squirm, clearly trying to get away from any contact with his skin.

"Where?!"

Before he knew it, Tony was pushed aside and Thor was there, kneeling beside Steve and, with surprising gentleness, pressed his hands down on the areas of skin that looked the least burnt on the tips of Steve's shoulders.

Steve's whole body started to shake and thrash against it as the pain flared up even more with his movements.

Not able to stand the sight any longer and do nothing, Natasha knelt down by Steve's head and very carefully placed his head in her lap, trying to think of a way to calm him down.

"Shh," she crooned, running her fingers through his sweat matted hair. She made sure to stay clear of the bump she could feel at the back of his skull.

Steve's eyelashes fluttered as he let out a long groan. Immediately Bruce leaned over him and gently tapped his cheek.

"Steve? Steve you with us?"

Steve's brow furrowed in pain, before his eyes opened into slits.

"Steve?"

The blue eyes widened revealing a glassy-looking gaze. It took Steve almost a whole minute before he managed to zone in on Bruce.

"Steve? How you doing buddy?" Bruce asked, making sure to keep his voice as calm as possible. Knowing that while the soldier might not totally understand what he was saying, but he'd definitely pick up on the tone.

Steve clearly wasn't totally there, his pupils were two different sizes, and his breathing erratic. But Bruce could only deal with one thing at a time until SHIELD arrived and right now Bruce needed to know how Steve was mentally holding up.

"H'rts," he slurred, tears slipping out the corners of his eyes.

"Shh, it's alright Steve," Natasha whispered, thumbing the tears away. She looked up at Bruce with worried eyes.

Steve was never one to complain. He never brought up his own injuries unless he had absolutely no choice, so to hear him openly admit to hurting? Something was definitely wrong. The probability of internal injuries weighing on all of their minds.

"Can't you give him something at least?" Tony demanded, worry making him even more short-tempered than usual.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the other one still keeping pressure on the wound, which was thankfully starting to clot. Although, they'd have to go back in for the bullet sometime if it hadn't gone clean through.

"Nothing will work, he'd burn through any medication before it had time to take any edge of the pain, or do anything useful."

Steve groaned again, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across his body.

"SHIELD's here," Barton reported, everyone breathing a sigh of relief at the news.

"Okay buddy, you're going to be just fine," Bruce said, watching as a plane laden with medical supplies landed on the ground as close to them as possible with all of the wreckage.

The evac team worked quickly, getting a stretcher out and rushing over to Steve. All the Avengers except Bruce and Thor backed up to give them space.

"Careful, there could be some spinal injuries," Bruce told them watching anxiously as they lifted him onto the stretcher.

"Thor, we might need you to come with us," Bruce thought aloud as they followed their leader, knowing that if Steve lashed out for whatever reason, the only one among them that could actually restrain him would be Thor.

The Asgardian nodded.

"We'll meet you at HQ," Tony stated gesturing to Barton, Natasha, and himself, wanting badly to be there for their Captain, but knowing that if any more people boarded they'd only get in the way.

They boarded their designated planes and took off.

"Why is he not healing?" Thor wondered aloud, watching as an IV was placed in Steve's arm and his temperature was taken.

Bruce shook his head, watching with increasing worry, "I don't know."

...

Steve's journey back to consciousness had been slow. All he knew at first was that he was somewhere dark and there was a heavy solid weight all round him, trapping him wherever he was. Part of him wondered if he was back under the ice, with the water pressing against him, filling his lungs with a fierce coldness until he couldn't breathe. His thoughts traveled around and around in circles until he felt the unknown mass above him shift.

"Steve!"

"Steve can you hear me?"

The darkness lifted, although Steve's eyelids had yet to find the strength to open on their own.

There was a beat of silence that Steve didn't know what to make of.

He had just decided that he must have been mistaken when something pressed against his chest painfully. A pitiful groan escaped his lips, tearing at the back of his throat which felt like it'd been coated in dust and ashes.

Immediately everything came back to him. In angry flashes.

The fire.

Running into the building.

The smoke building up until he could hardly see.

The girl. Oh dear Lord, the girl. He'd failed her.

The fight.

Gasoline.

Being shot.

Burning.

The building...did it...did it collapse?

The pressure continued on his charred flesh no matter how hard he tried to get it off. He felt hands grab his shoulders and pin him to the ground and he didn't understand why they wouldn't just let him be. Couldn't they tell how much pain he was in?

Someone was grabbing at his head now and laying it on something softer than the ground. Hands and fingers were combing through his hair just like his mother used to do when he was sick.

 _Was_ it his mother?

Steve tried to open his eyes, feeling as if his eyelids had weights attached to them.

He shut them quickly with a groan, feeling dizzy and light headed.

"Steve? Steve you with us?"

Someone was poking at his cheek and Steve scrunched his brow, wishing they'd leave him alone and let him retreat back to that blissful darkness where he hadn't felt any of this pain he was feeling now.

The tapping persisted.

"Steve?"

Bruce, the name floated up in his thoughts. He sounded...worried. Steve struggled once again to open his eyes and managed to open them into tiny slits, he slowly opened them wider as they grew adjusted to the bright light.

Everything he saw seemed to be all blurred together into unrecognizable shapes until at last the face of Banner came into focus.

"Steve? How ya doing buddy?"

Banner's tone was light, as if he were merely asking about the weather. If it weren't for the pain that was lacing throughout his entire body, Steve might have believed him.

When Bruce kept staring at him, Steve realized that he was probably waiting for an answer, so he said the first word that came to mind, "H'rts."

Steve kind of drifted off after that, his consciousness coming and going in waves and spurts.

Before he really realized what was happening hands were grabbing and pulling at him. Cries of pain erupted from him that he couldn't control, couldn't hold back. He was being lifted and laid down on something that was albeit a little softer than wherever he had been before, but it was still uncomfortable and all of the jostling had done nothing to ease his discomfort.

He opened his eyes to see the sky moving rather quickly above him. Strange voices murmured around but it was as if he was listening to them from under water, their words indistinct and meaningless to his ears.

The sky was soon replaced with something darker.

"Steve," his blue eyes widened slightly at the sound of his name because he knew that voice...he couldn't remember who it belonged-

Bruce bent over him once again, "Steve it's going to be alright, okay? You're going to be-"

Steve tried really hard to listen, he really did. But the darkness was forming at the edge of his vision and the darkness was so quiet and painless...

...

"We're losing him!" A nurse shouted, someone called for a crash cart.

Bruce stared at Steve's lax face, willing his friend to wake up on his own accord. It was never pleasant to be shocked, but with Steve's current injuries he was afraid it might just make matters worse.

The shrill sound of the machine proclaiming Steve's lack of a heart beat filled the tense plane, Thor stiffened beside Banner.

"Charging," another person stated as someone wiped a clear gel over Steve's shredded chest.

"Oh..." a thousand thoughts tumbled in Bruce's mind.

"Clear!"

Steve's body lifted from the table, his back arching before slumping back down. They waited.

There!

A slight beat. Followed by another that was slightly stronger. And another stronger than the last.

"Thank God," Banner muttered wiping a hand down his face.

The doctors and nurses continued to try to assess Steve's condition as best they could so that they would be better prepared to fully treat him at headquarters.

They were just examining the bullet wound when Steve's eyes suddenly shot open. They somehow landed on Bruce dispite the crowd of chaos that was surrounding him. He looked terrified.

"Bruce," he breathed, his heart beat started to race on the machine.

"Steve, what is it?"

He shoved his way back beside the table.

Steve shook his head and stared down at his feet, "I can't feel my legs."

* * *

*Poor Steve! Was it really confusing having it switch back and forth from point of views, or were you guys able to follow that without trouble? I really hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter and if you have the time, please, please review! I love hearing what you guys think! Thank you so much for reading! :)*


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters or settings

Author's Note: Thank you!Thank you!Thank you! To all of you who've reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. Your support keeps me writing and I really can't thank all of you enough. And now please enjoy this next chapter!

* * *

When Bruce had first seen Steve's doctor he had assumed that she'd been just a nurse until she'd introduced herself. She'd already shed her pearly white coat and was about a head shorter than everyone around her.

She'd immediately jumped into action with an air of someone who knew what they were doing.

"Doctor Banner, Mr. Thor, I'm Doctor Allen. Thank you for all of your help, but I would kindly suggest that you wait in the sitting area until my team and I have done what we can," her tone had been polite but at the same time demanding. When the two hesitated her gaze softened, "I will notify you as soon as we have any news," she promised.

The two Avengers were then led off to the waiting area as Steve, who was once again unconscious, which might have been a good thing considering how much pain he was sure to be in, was led to the emergency room.

They found the other three already there trying to convince the nurse at the front desk to let them through.

"We're his family!" Natasha declared, slamming her fist on the counter.

"Banner!" Barton exclaimed, cutting off their argument with the poor nurse, immediately everyone's attention snapped to Bruce, the only Avenger with any official medical knowledge, "How is he?"

Bruce ran a hand through his hair and nodded towards the empty chairs, "Let's have a seat."

After he and Thor had recounted everything that had happened in the plane there was a moment of silence.

Everyone looked pale and drawn, the soot covering most of them standing out in stark contrast to their sickly white looking skin.

"But…he'll make it, right? He's Captain America…he'll heal, won't he?" Barton asked eventually.

Everyone looked hopefully at Bruce.

"I hope so," he sighed.

"Will he be able to heal from being paralyzed though?" Tony wondered, "I mean, spinal injuries are pretty severe, even for him."

Bruce shrugged, "I don't know, no one does…"

"Even if Steve is...what is it called?" Thor asked.

"Paralyzed," Barton supplied.

"Yes, paralyzed," Thor continued, "He can still be our leader."

"The problem isn't whether or not _we'll_ see him as an Avenger, it's Steve," Natasha stated, "I mean, do you really think he'll handle having to sit out on the sidelines while we fight?"

"Well, he can still throw his shield once his hands are healed," Tony pointed out.

"From a wheelchair?"

"I'll make him a suit, simple."

"It's not simple! Nothing-"

"Guys," Banner cut in, knowing that everyone's nerves were on edge, "We don't know if it's permanent yet. Let's wait to hear what Doctor Allen has to say before we start to plan anything."

They nodded and backed down. Tony pulled out his phone to call Pepper. Nat and Barton leaned against each other to get some rest while they could. Thor stood up and started pacing. Everyone growing more anxious with each passing minute, everyone fearing the worst.

The group paid no attention to the coming and going of various agents and nurses coming to visit sick friends or check up on patients. They didn't care that people stared as they walked by, or as they whispered about them. They just cared about their friend who was hidden behind those two swinging doors.

They waited.

And waited.

Finally, after three long hours Doctor Allen appeared. Her brown hair had been thrown back hastily and she wore a buttoned up white coat, which was odd considering that most people preferred to leave their coats unbuttoned that way they could be easily taken off in case of emergency.

"Is he okay?"

"How's Steve?"

"Can he feel his feet?"

Question after question bombarded the doctor as soon as she got near them.

She held up a hand, and immediately they quieted.

"Steve is stable," she declared, skipping her usual introduction, "Which at this point is a huge step from where he was when he first arrived. Now if you'll please follow me I can take you to him and we can discuss his situation in," she glanced at the other people in the waiting room, "a more private setting."

"Situation?" Barton poked Banner as soon as they started following the small woman back down a hallway, "What does that mean?"

Banner shrugged in response and shook his head. 'He's stable, Steve's stable. We can handle anything so long as he's alive and stable, we'll handle it.' The words swirled and swirled around his mind.

"Ordinarily we would have put someone in his condition in ICU," Dr. Allen stated over her shoulder, she stopped and opened a wooden door, "But we were able to set everything up in this room, I figured you guys might want a little privacy."

They nodded their thanks as they walked through the door.

Steve was in his own room. He looked thin and frail on the bed they'd laid him in. Bandages covered what they could see of his chest and forearms. His left leg was placed in a cast and there was an extra wad of bandages where the bullet wound had been. His face was still marred with scratches and bruises; Bruce was surprised to find. He'd thought that those would have been the first to heal.

With all of the sweat, dirt, and dried blood wiped off, Steve somehow looked as if he was just sleeping.

"So what's the prognosis, Doc?" Tony asked as soon as they'd gotten accustomed to the sight.

She grabbed the clipboard off of the bed, "Right now we don't know much," she started, "Our current theory is that with all of Steve's injuries the serum doesn't quite know what to heal first."

"So the serum's not doing anything?" Barton asked.

"The serum's keeping him alive," she informed them, "Without it, I doubt he'd still be with his now. The problem is, there was so much damage inflicted on his body that it's probably hard for the serum to determine what is the most life-threatening."

"What damage?" Bruce questioned, not liking the fact that she seemed to be dancing around that fact.

She pursed her lips and looked down at the clipboard, "He suffered from a significant amount of blood loss, which we're trying to balance out with a transfusion. Uhm, he had a ruptured spleen, some internal bleeding around his abdominal cavity, which we cleaned up and I hope his body will heal itself there otherwise we might have to go back in..."she appeared to be muttering to herself for a moment before she continued, "Steve also had five broken ribs, a punctured lung, a bullet which was lodged in his scapula, a broken tibia, and, obviously, some second and third degree burns on his palms, arms, and chest."

"What about his spine? He said he couldn't feel his legs on the plane," Bruce asked.

"There was a ruptured disk," she answered.

"Do you think he will walk once more?" Thor asked, not quite understanding what a disk was, or how it related to paralysis.

"I think with extensive therapy, there should be some sort of improvement, but as of right now I'm more concerned with the burns. His skin is no longer there to protect his body from germs and such and with his immune system weakened the possibility of infection setting in is dangerously high."

No one missed the fact that she hadn't actually answered Thor's question. They glanced at each other nervously.

"What's the worst that could happen if he got an infection?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to keep her emotions in check. 'Being emotional isn't going to help Steve,' she reminded herself, and made a mental note to figure out all of the sports and activities that could be played in wheelchairs.

"An infection has the possibility of causing Steve to go into a coma."

"The serum would wake him up though, right?" Clint asked.

"We don't know, everything's up in the air right now, I'm sorry," she replied sincerely.

Her pager went off before anyone could ask another question.

"I have to see to another patient, just have the nurse at the front desk page me if you have any other questions," she hurried out of the room, but not before her coat slipped slightly, showing the dark red stain on her front.

The Avengers sat down in the chairs surrounding the bed. Most of the doctor's words had gone over the majority of their understanding, but they didn't need a medical degree to know that Steve's condition could change drastically at nearly any moment in time.

"So what do you think Bruce?" Natasha asked.

Bruce shook his head, "I think that it's going to take a long time for him to recover."

"So you think he'll recover? And be back to normal?"

"I think he'll survive," Bruce corrected, "But it'll be painful."

"For him?"

"For all of us."

"He looks so young," Natasha commented softly.

"Why don't you guys go get some rest?" Tony suggested, "We can wait for him to wake up in shifts."

"Tony-"

"We're not going to be able to do much for him if we're all exhausted now are we?"

Nat pursed her lips, knowing that he was right and yet hating the thought of leaving Steve in such a weakened state.

"Stark is right," Thor agreed.

"I'll take first shift," Clint decided, "I won't be able to sleep anyways."

They all agreed hesitantly.

"Call if anything changes," Bruce told him.

Clint rolled his eyes, "I will."

They filed out of the room slowly.

It was always a traumatic experience whenever one of them got hurt bad enough to require medical attention. But Steve was always the one who knew how to calm the situation down, even if he didn't say anything at all. He was always the one who would keep the silent vigil by their bedside, he was always there with a smile when they woke up and would gently explain not only what happened, but how they were going to get better. And they always somehow did get better.

But now that Steve was the one hurt…Barton sighed as the door closed and plopped into a chair, kicking his legs up onto Steve's bed.

He was just flipping through his phone when Steve stirred.

Clint got his legs down and edged closer, "Steve?"

It took a moment before Steve opened his eyes.

"Hey, you with me?"

"I think so," Steve replied softly, glancing at all of the wires that were protruding from his body, and slowly taking in all of his injuries. Whatever pain medication they were pumping through him must've been extremely strong, it was actually numbing down what would have been excoriating pain to a dull ache settling over his body.

"You guys just won't let me go peacefully, will you?" he asked with a soft smile.

Barton smiled back, "We're not letting you go period, Cap. Can you imagine the Avengers being led by someone like Stark?"

Steve made a face and as desired, chuckled. It had been a running joke among the Avengers, although Steve secretly thought that Tony would do just fine in a leader position if he had to.

He winced and wrapped an arm around his midsection.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Clint asked worriedly, eyeing the big red CALL button.

Steve waved off his worries and leaned his head back against the pillow tiredly, "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Sorry," Clint mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

"What'd the doctor say?"

"Well...she's thinking that the reason you aren't healing quickly is because there were so many injuries to contend with the serum doesn't know what to heal, if that makes sense."

"Not really," Steve grunted, his face contorting in pain. He was wrong, whatever medication they'd used clearly wasn't as strong as he'd hoped. The pain was slowly building until a thin sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead. He gripped the sheets, his knuckles turning a ghostly white.

"Steve?!"

"Pain-" Steve grunted.

"Oh gosh," Clint slammed his fist against the CALL button and tried to find some way to help, "Steve the doctors are coming okay, buddy?"

Steve groaned, the veins in his neck bulging. His chest was rising and falling rapidly.

The door burst open and Doctor Allen was there along with three nurses Clint didn't recognize. He jumped out of their way.

"Sedate him!" she called out, yanking on her stethoscope and gently placing it on his chest.

They filled a syringe with the drug and injected it into Steve's IV.

Steve's movements slowed down but it seemed his eyes refused to shut.

"Sleep Steve," Doctor Allen ordered softly, carefully watching both her patient and the machines.

His eyes slowly shut after a few more seconds passed, his chest slowing down until it rose and fell normally.

Doctor Allen stood up straight, "We'll have to change the bandages, I want updates on him everyone fifteen to twenty minutes, understood?"

It was then that Clint noticed the specks of blood that looked like they had been sprinkled over Steve's chest and arms. The tension in his body having caused some of the wounds to reopen.

"Burns bleed?" he wondered aloud.

Dr. Allen shrugged, "The burns took away his top layers of skin, not his nervous system."

"How long do you think he'll be out?" he asked, worried that Steve would wake up and once again be engulfed in pain.

" _Hopefully_ another half-hour at least, I gave him enough to knock out a normal person for the afternoon. It's hard to tell."

She chewed on her lip as they watched the nurses work.

"You might not want to watch the uncover his chest, or his palms, they got the worst of the burns," she advised, giving Clint the feeling that she was generally trying to look out for him.

"Do you know what happened?" he asked her, determinedly not looking at Steve's charred body, just seeing Steve react to pain moments before had been enough to rattle him.

She shook her head, "There's only one person that knows the story behind that, but I would recommend not asking until he's healed."

There was a beat of silence before she said, "He's going to need you guys, you know."

At his confused look she nodded at Steve.

"There's no way that anyone can suffer through that and bounce back without any scars."

* * *

*Poor Steve! So I haven't quite decided whether or not Steve should remain paralyzed or heal completely, any thoughts? If you have time, please review! Thank you so much for reading!*


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters/settings

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed and those who have followed/favorited this story, I never expected to get this much support so thank you very, very much! I am very sorry for such a late update, I was sick practically all last week and with finals this sort of got pushed to the back burner. Please forgive me, and I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

* * *

After a week had passed, the serum had slowly started to get to work. The bruises on his face had all but disappeared and the burns on his torso were slowly, very slowly in Steve's opinion, starting to heal.

The pain was still excruciating, but somehow Steve found it manageable and could actually stay awake long enough to have a decent conversation with him.

His eyes fluttered open and his brow furrowed as he tried to process why he'd woken up. He'd been having a good dream, although he couldn't quite remember what the dream had been about. All he could remember was the conversation he'd had with Fury earlier that day, and he knew that _that_ was not what had given him such a peaceful feeling.

"On your left," Sam said with a smirk.

Steve smiled, and glanced over at his friend, knowing that he'd wanted to use that joke for a long time now, "Hey."

"Hey yourself. How you holdin' up?" For a moment Sam's eyes flashed, relaying the underlying concern and worry he felt about Steve and his current condition.

"I'm okay," Steve said easily.

Sam quirked an eyebrow and walked over to the other side so that he could sit in a chair, "Well, you look like crap."

Steve huffed a laugh, glad to talk to someone who didn't seem like they were tip-toeing around him. As if because of his injuries he was suddenly made of glass and would shatter at the slightest impact.

"The doctors say that I'll be able to go back to the Tower by the end of the week if I keep healing at this rate."

"Good," Sam said with a nod, remembering the only other time he'd had to visit Steve in the hospital.

It had been after the whole 'taking down SHIELD' mission, Steve had been found alive on the river bank, barely breathing. Even with all the injuries he'd sustained he insisted that he'd been alright five minutes after waking up in the hospital.

 _'What have you got against the doctors?' Sam had asked, slightly amused to see the World's Greatest Soldier arguing with the nurse every time she came in, practically begging to be allowed to go home._

 _'It's not the doctors, it's the hospital,'Steve replied, 'I spent enough time in hospitals as a kid, I don't want to waste any more time in them.'_

"I suppose you've talked to the others?" Steve sighed, when the lull in the conversation seemed to drag on.

Sam nodded, seeing no reason to lie to his friend. He'd heard about Steve getting injured on the news of course. There wasn't a news station in the country that hadn't covered the story at least fifty-thousand times. He stomach still clenched whenever he recalled the image of the building falling, imagining Steve inside it, over and over. It had been a relief when Bruce called him and gave him an update on Steve, although at the time the update had seemed pretty bleak.

"Yeah…"

"They tell you about my legs?"

Sam nodded again, "But I don't it'll be permanent."

Steve's brow furrowed as he stared at his useless limbs hidden under the thin bed sheet. He'd tried everything he could to get even his pinky toe to move, or even just to feel _anything_ in his legs and feet. He couldn't begin to describe how weird it was seeing his legs stretched out on the bed, knowing that they were still attached to him, and yet not being able to feel or do anything with them.

"It's been a week Sam," he sighed, "And I still can't feel a thing."

"It'll heal Steve," Sam assured him trying to sound more confident than he felt in the statement, "And if not then we'll find a way to cope."

"Cope?" Steve's voice cracked slightly and he chuckled as he shook his head, "Sam, I don't think that you quite understand the issue here."

"No?" Sam raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, "Then please enlighten me."

Steve sighed, "Sam, without my legs I'm nothing-"

"Nothing?" Sam scoffed.

"I can't fight!" Steve couldn't help but raise his voice, finally letting all of his pent up frustration loose. He was so sick of people telling him that he'd be alright, how could they know? How could they possibly understand what he was going through? It seemed like he had just finally been able to begin getting used to his new life in this century and now he had to start all over again.

He had worked so _hard_ to catch up, to make friends, to let go of what, to him had been merely a few years ago, while to the world had been over seventy years in the past. And now that had all been swept up from under his feet and he didn't know if he had the strength to get back up again.

"And that's all you as Steve Rogers has to offer?"

"I can't be Captain America! I can't save people like this! I sure as heck can't lead the Avengers!"

"Steve none of that-"

Steve's cheeks were flushed with anger, "IT MATTERS TO ME, OKAY? _I CARE!"_

The image of the girl flashed before his eyes. He'd failed to save her. How many more would die because he could no longer protect them?

"Cap, look, it'll be hard but-"

"Sam," Steve's voice dropped to a low whisper and he let his head drop to his chest. He took in his pink hands, still too sensitive to do anything useful, his torn up chest that looked like a quilt of dying skin, scabs, and baby-pink new skin. He was ashamed that he was on the verge of tears but dammit, it was too much, all of it. "I'm tired of hearing that everything will be okay, Sam, because it's not. Okay? It's just…it's not okay."

There were a few minutes of silence as Sam thought hard about what he could do to lift Steve's spirits. If there was one thing he'd learned in the military and at the VA, it was that healing, like many other things, was sometimes mind over matter. He knew Steve would never really heal if he didn't want to.

"Seven."

Steve's brow furrowed, clearly not following, "What?"

"I've met seven people who didn't have the use of their legs," Sam told him, "Met them at the VA. They all lead good lives Steve, and they all needed time to adjust, but they're happy now. Sure, perhaps you won't be out fighting crime anymore, but you can still do other things. Give it time." He reached over and squeezed Steve's shoulder, "And before you ask, no, I haven't found any leads on our missing person, but I'll keep looking, alright?"

Steve quirked a small smile and nodded, "Thanks Sam."

 _At the Tower..._

"Stark?" Nat called out as she stepped into the lab.

She heard a small grunt in response and walked over to the sound of metal clanking together, her boots clicking loudly on the cement floor.

Tony was hunched over a bench, his nose centimeters away from a metal band that he was fiddling with.

"Stark, we-"

"Do you think that this'll fit Steve's thighs?" Tony interrupted, leaning back and giving a it scrutinizing gaze.

"What?" she asked, sounding exasperated.

"I mean, the dude is a super soldier, so he has like thunder thighs...maybe I should adjust it to fit Thor, he's pretty muscly too-" he muttered, thinking out loud.

"Tony-"

"You're right, I should just put some auto-adjusters on it, that way it'll be a comfortable fit for sure," Tony continued to talk as he shoved away from the desk and scanned his shelves, looking for something particular.

"Tony!" Nat yelled, sick of being ignored.

Everyone's nerves were fried. They'd all been losing sleep and in their worry they bickered, constantly. Usually Steve was there to act as a buffer, or to be someone who'll listen to them rant until they ran out of steam, but he wasn't there. Not this time. A Steve-sized hole was missing from the puzzle and they all felt it.

He finally slowed down and looked over at her for the first time, his eyes bloodshot from late hours and no sleep, "What?"

"Director Fury wants to meet with us this afternoon," she reported, tucking a red strand of hair behind one of her ears.

"I don't think Steve is up to that just yet, do you?" he asked, knowing that that wasn't what she meant, but saying the only response he could think of.

Natasha sighed, hating their situation, "Steve's not...he's not going to be there."

Tony laughed, "Oh, so Fury thinks he can just kick Steve off the team without Steve being there?"

"Look, Tony-"

"Don't 'look Tony' me Nat-"

"The world needs the Avengers! We can't just sit on the sidelines and hope that this'll pass without anything happening out there!"

"The world needs Captain America!" Tony shot back, "Who's going to lead the Avengers without Steve, hmm? What do you think Steve'll think when we're off Avenging shit and he's stuck in the hospital? Oh, I'm sure he'll just love that."

Nat glared, wishing for the thousandth time that Steve had never gone into that stupid burning building, "You know damn well who Steve would want to lead us."

Tony glared right back, "I'm not doing it," he declared, "In fact, you can run to Fury and tell him that this is my official resignation notice."

Nat rolled her eyes, fed up with his immaturity, "Don't be stupid Tony, you can't just quit being an Avenger."

Tony plopped back down at his desk, "Watch me."

 _At the Hospital..._

"I thought Banner said you guys had a meeting with Fury right now," Steve said as Tony walked into the room.

Stark rolled his eyes and sank into the uncomfortable hospital chair, "I'm not going."

Steve's brows snapped together, "Why not?"

Tony quirked an eyebrow, "You know what they're gonna do at the meeting Steve, I'm not going to be a part of it."

"Tony," Steve sighed, shaking his head, "Fury already talked with me, I agree that this is the wisest course of action. With you leading-"

"Hey, I didn't come here to get a lecture gramps," Tony told him, raising a hand to stop the soldier, "This is my decision, not yours, or anyone else's for that matter."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Yes, but it's a decision that will effect the team. And what about everyone else out there?"

"What about them? For once I'm making this decision based on other people and you're telling me to change my mind?"

"You're not making this decision for me, and you know it," Steve countered, "You're making this because you want to rub it in Fury's face that you can."

"Well, the idea had crossed my mind," Tony muttered with a shrug, "The others'll be fine."

"I'd feel a lot better if you were leading them," Steve stated, trying a different tactic, "You know that you're more than qualified."

Tony ran his hands through his hair and sighed, "I'm not doing it Cap, so long as you're alive, you're the leader of the Avengers and that's that."

Steve once again rolled his eyes, "Tony, I'm not leading you guys from a wheelchair."

"Then walk!" Tony said, figuring now was as good a time as ever to tell the soldier about his invention, "I've made this thing that attaches to your thighs, it should allow you to walk fairly normally."

"That's not going to work in combat," he sighed.

"Says who?" Tony questioned.

Steve had to pause a minute to keep his temper in check. There was just something about Tony that always managed to get under his skin no matter how hard he tried.

He didn't know why, but he felt apprehensive about whatever invention Tony was talking about already. Sure, Tony was a genius. He'd made the Iron Man suit in a cave, built up his father's company, but Steve simply couldn't imagine having to rely on a machine to do simple everyday tasks like walking to the bathroom.

"All it'd take is one slip up. Sure, I'd walk, but I probably couldn't run, not like before. What if there's rain? Or snow? I won't be-"

"Will you just try it before you try and tear it apart Steve?" Tony interrupted, "I get it, you don't want to get your hopes up, but..." the mechanic shook his head.

Steve bit his lip before giving a soft smile, "I'll try it, if you agree to lead the Avengers."

Tony glared at him, "That's not fair and you know it."

Steve shrugged.

"Fine," Tony snapped, "But only until you get better."

"Agreed," Steve replied.

The unspoken,' _if_ I get better', hanging between them.

* * *

*Again, so sorry for a late update. I hope you enjoyed and didn't find the setting changes confusing. As per usual, please, **please review to let me know what you thought about this chapter! Thank you so much for reading!** :)*


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or any of its characters/settings

Author's Note: I am so sorry for such a long delay between updates, life just gets chaotic at times, wouldn't you agree? Anyways, thank you so much for such a wonderful response to the last chapter and I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and is enjoying the new year!

* * *

"You're going to love it, Steve," Pepper promised as they rode in the backseat of the car.

Steve forced his lips into a tight smile at her words.

Tony drove and Thor sat shot-gun, neither knowing what to say and as a result remaining silent.

Nat and Clint had decided to stay at the Tower to finish the last-minute preparations for his arrival. Bruce was doing research on various treatments and therapies that they could try.

"...We remodeled your bedroom, I hope you don't mind. It looks so nice," Pepper kept prattling on cheerfully, rotating between looking down at her phone, glancing at Steve, and darting her eyes to the window to see where they were.

Steve nodded politely, grateful for her efforts, but silently wishing that she would be quiet and leave him with his thoughts, only catching bits and pieces of what she said. He knew he should pay attention. Knew that deep down she was only trying to help, but he simply couldn't find the energy to stay engaged in any type of conversation just yet. The doctors had said that this lack of energy would pass, Steve wasn't so sure.

"Of course, we knew you like to sit on the porch so we found a sliding door that goes all the way back, it'll give you plenty of room to maneuver your wheelchair!"

Steve closed his eyes at the reminder. His cheeks burned as he remembered the challenge of getting him dressed in comfortable clothes and out of the hospital gown he'd been wearing for the past week….

He had insisted that he could do so himself.

After all, when had something as simple as changing ever been an issue?

It was clear, however, that while his hands were mending along nicely, they weren't up to the task quite yet. And his chest muscles ached and pulled whenever he tried to raise his arms above his head.

After ten minutes of struggle, he'd given up.

Tony had offered to help and Thor pitched in as Doctor Allen and Pepper thankfully waited outside the room.

"Here, the Doc forgot to give you these," Tony had said, giving Steve some slick gloves that only covered his palms, "She said it'd help prevent the new skin from catching on something and tearing."

Steve had nodded and slipped them on.

As if sensing his embarrassment, Tony just started chatting away about anything and everything that came to mind as they got the super soldier ready. A tactic that Steve discovered worked surprisingly well.

Eventually Tony and Thor had gotten into a mock argument over their girlfriends.

"Well, Jane is the leading scientist in her field," Thor boomed.

"Psshh," Tony scoffed, "Pepper runs a world-renowned company by _herself_ , top that!"

It got to the point where Steve found himself laughing in spite of his low spirits. He didn't even mind much when Thor helped lift him from the bed and into the wheelchair, the Asgardian picking him up easily and gently setting him down.

\- But now Steve just wanted some time by himself to figure out how he was going to get over this new hurdle. He felt that if this had occurred before the Avengers, it would be much easier. He would've been able to heal and recoup at his own pace and wouldn't have to worry about controlling his emotions in front of everyone. Now though, he felt as if he'd be like a bug under a microscope. His every move would be watched.

The drive seemed to drag on for an eternity, as his thoughts continued to swirl, before they finally made it to the Tower. Instead of parking the car at the front entrance as per usual, Tony drove around to the back entrance.

Steve was about to ask why until he saw the pack of reporters waiting outside. The group lit up when they recognized the car and eagerly grabbed their pads, but Tony sped up and pulled into the garage, shutting the door before any of the reporters had a chance to ask anything or snap any shots.

"They've been waiting outside like a pack of piranhas ever since they reported your accident," Tony stated, his annoyance at the press evident in his tone as he shut the car off.

Steve nodded, grateful not to have every moment and word be scrutinized by the press. He wasn't prepared for them yet, although he knew that he'd have to face them sometime. Make some sort of statement about how he was injured, yet somehow recovering, reassure them that he'd be back on the battlefield soon. But he'd have to believe it himself first.

Thor helped him back into the chair and they made their way to the elevator.

Someone pressed the button, but Steve wasn't really paying attention.

It was finally setting in. He was paralyzed.

The doctor had mentioned that it might be permanent, that he might have to live like this for the rest of his life. But he hadn't believed her. Hadn't wanted to, he supposed.

Somehow being back at the Tower made that possibility seem more than just a stale theory.

The sinking weight of that realization hit him like a bullet. Everything else had healed so far, or was in the process of doing so, but not the one thing that he desired to heal above all else.

Sure, he supposed it could have been worse. And that, given time, there'll be some sort of medical breakthrough that could heal him. But what was he going to do until that futuristic day occurred?

Sit around in the Tower all day?

Give motivational speeches?

The thought made Steve roll his eyes.

The doors opened with a cheerful sounding 'ding' and Steve wondered how he would remain sane if he had to listen to that every single time he rode the elevator, since stairs were no longer an option.

Tony pushed the wheelchair out of the small space and into the living room. Steve's eyes widened in shock at the vases of flowers that seemed to cover every surface available.

Nat and Barton stood up from where they'd been lounging as they waited and smiled at him.

"Welcome back, Steve," Clint said with a smile.

Steve nodded gratefully, still eyeing the array of plants all over the place, "Where'd all these come from?" he asked, trying to comprehend what all of it meant.

"Everywhere," Tony voice said from behind.

"We tried to sort them out by state, and then by country, but…" Nat shrugged apologetically, "We couldn't find enough room to keep all of them together."

"By country?"

"It seems you have many people on this Earth who wish you a speedy recovery, as do we all," Thor spoke loudly, walking over and plopping onto one of Tony's leather couches.

"Believe it or not, but there were actually quite a few more flowers than this," Natasha told him, "But someone," at this she sent a pointed looked in Tony's direction, "Forgot that flowers need to be watered and then new ones came in to replace them, so..." she gestured with her arms as Steve continued to stare in awe.

There were a few beats of silence. Steve was still in shock at all of the flowers. There were some of every kind imaginable; sunflowers, roses, daisies, tulips, marigolds, some that he had never seen before, each in a vast ranges of colors.

"So…what do you want to do?" Clint asked, shifting his weight to his other leg when the silence had become unbearable.

Steve glanced around once more, "Actually, uhm, I think I'd just like to lie down for a little bit, I'm still ah, you know, ...recovering."

"Sure, of course, uh right. Do you need any help?"

"I got it Clint," Tony promised, already turning the chair and starting to push it away.

They remained quiet until they had made it to Steve's newly furnished room. The smooth wheels not making a sound on the cold floor. Steve could see dried up petals that must have fallen while they had rearranged them.

Tony paused, clearly wanting to say something. He shook his head and walked to the open door.

'Screw it,' he thought, he turned around and face the super soldier's back, "Look, I get it if you need some space to digest all of this," he started, "But you gotta realize that this has been hard on everyone. And _everyone_ , including myself, want to help you. So...yeah, uh, dinner'll be at six like usual." He ducked out of the room rubbing the back of his neck. His footsteps disappearing down the hallway.

Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, relieved to finally be alone, and yet at the same time, wanting company.

At least with company he had refuge from his thoughts.

He knew that the others meant well, knew that they'd gone above and beyond what many people would do for people in this situation. But...he sighed again. Everything seemed to loop around in a circle.

Over and over until he wasn't sure what he honestly thought or felt, and couldn't determine what he _should_ be thinking or feeling. All he felt was empty, and it scared him.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he heard a knock on the door.

"Hey," Natasha stated, walking into the room.

Steve maneuvered the wheel chair so that it would face her, "Hey."

Her lips turned upwards and Steve knew that she was planning something.

"Come on, you can't spend all day in here," she declared marching behind his chair and pushing out of the room, down the hallway, and angling it toward the elevator. The lounge area strangely vacant as they waited for the elevator to come back up from wherever it was.

"May I ask where you're taking me?" Steve asked.

He could hear the smile in her voice as she replied, "You'll see."

The elevator opened and they got on. Natasha pushed the button for the gym in Tony's basement.

"You want to work out?" Steve wondered, slightly puzzled.

She grinned again, strangely excited, "Something like that."

The doors 'dinged' once again before opening and Steve made a mental note to ask Tony to change the sound. He didn't quite know what he expected to see when the doors opened, but it certainly wasn't the image that appeared before him.

When Tony had built the Tower in the basement he'd created the ideal work-out center. A basketball court was on the far end, weights and a boxing pen on another, complete with a shooting range tucked in a corner.

But that wasn't what surprised Steve.

All of the Avengers, including Sam and Rhodey were on the basketball court, all of them sitting in wheel chairs. An empty chair was there as well, that Steve presumed was for Natasha.

"Come on old man!" Tony called, dribbling the ball in front of him, "We've already picked the teams."

"I'm not sure my doctor would approve," Steve stated, although he felt himself grinning regardless, as he joined them on the court.

"Eh, what she doesn't know won't kill her. Besides we have a medic and a doc here, so if they can't fix it than you're screwed either way."

Steve laughed and felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly. Maybe he wouldn't heal completely, but maybe with friends like this it could at least become bearable.

* * *

*Okay, once again, a huge apology for the delay in updates. I'm sorry for the depressing beginning and it might sound like Steve is whiney but I figured he deserved it after all the poor guy's been through, and I do like the idea of the avengers playing basketball in wheelchairs and wish I could draw that for the cover image, but ah well. If you have any other ideas for activities that they could do as a team that'd be great! **Thank you so much for reading and please comment if you have the time! :)** *


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